


The Day The World Went Away

by youngbloodbuzz



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, Drama, Drugs, F/F, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-08
Updated: 2012-08-11
Packaged: 2017-11-11 17:03:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/480827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youngbloodbuzz/pseuds/youngbloodbuzz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When she officially goes off the deep end, it isn't in New York contrary to popular belief.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Prequel to an upcoming story (that may or may not happen), starring Quinn and the night of her downward spiral set the summer before Senior year. Also unbeta'd, so I apologize for any grammar or spelling mistakes.

* * *

**standing in the way of control**

When she officially goes off the deep end, it isn't in New York contrary to popular belief. It was July 8th, or maybe it was now the 9th. As far as she knew at this point, it was fuck o'clock at night and she was in a in the crowded pit of a packed house in some seedy part of Lima that she was always condemned her from ever going near. If only her parents could see her now.

She was certain the house was trembling with how loud the music was blasting through the speakers. She honestly couldn't really tell. Her body was bursting with energy, her sweaty skin thrumming and insides pulsating. Her head felt like it was rushing forward in a vortex, the world spinning and tipping on its axis while dark figures danced and twitching around her. With Jack coursing through her veins, and the smell of smoke and sweat filling her nostrils, disorienting her already cloud head, she danced alongside with those twitching blurs with her eyes shut.

Her heart pounding like a jack hammer against her rib cage, she could swear it danced along to the angry bass that boomed in the pit and was about to burst out from her chest.

It seemed to go on forever, her body moving and writhing to its own accord, her hands running over her body and through her hair. Tremors ran up through her when hands suddenly encased her hips and a warm body was flush against her back. Her automatic moan was drowned out by the music at the sensation of soft breasts pressing against her shoulder blades. The warm body slowed her frantic movements and moved along with her.

A simmer began in her veins, and she grinned. She felt more than heard soft breaths against her ear, heavy with exertion as a hand moved from a hip to rest low on her stomach. Resting a hand on the one on her stomach, she wrapped the other against her dance partner's neck, bringing them closer and grinded her ass against their hips. A feminine moan flitted through her ears and she smiled as her partners hips pushed back, the hand on her hip squeezing tight and pulling her closer.

She lightly gasped when teeth gently nipped at her earlobe, soft lips rubbing against the shell of her ear, and then –

Oh.

Those soft lips met heated skin, just underneath her ear. She trapped her bottom lip captive with her teeth, her eye squeezed shut tight as their bodies swayed and lips kissed their way down her neck. She maneuvered her head to give those lips more access for more open mouthed, hot kisses.

A sudden sharp bite right where her neck met her shoulder made her moan, a hot tongue soothing the red flesh. She could feel a hot flush working its way down her thrumming body and her hit squarely between her thighs. Insistent lips sucked and kissed her porcelain skin, undoubtedly leaving many dark marks. The hand wrapped around her partner's neck found its way into a mass of soft hair and gripped tight at another sharp bite.

She groaned. God she wanted more, and the body behind her was working too slow. A rush of confidence and frustration filling her, she gripped the hand on her stomach and dragged it higher and higher until it was grasping her breast.

The body shuddered with a chuckle and squeezed.

With a dull throbbing settling between her legs, her stomach clenched along with a sudden rush of wetness. The foreign feelings she felt in her body escaped her mind, and all she could think of was more.

She spun in the body's arms and was met with a dark haired beauty with a devious smirk and blown eyes. She smirked back and leaned in. The girl only smirked wider and instead pulled away with a wink, and began to lead her out of the dancing mass. With hands gripped tight, they pushed their way through the crowd until they reached the stairs and climbed out of the pit to the main level of the house. They passed through the dimly lit hallways, filled with smoky air. The rooms and halls they passed were lined with the affectionately coined "Lima Losers" who nodded at them with lingering glances.

A lanky college aged boy with sunken eyes and disheveled hair grinned at her with a pass over glance, "Hey, Quinn."

She smirked back, and winked as they passed by, and he nearly swooned on the spot. The girl leading her merely laughed. Being acknowledged in such a way, she abruptly felt of rush of invincibility as she followed the darker haired girl with hungry eyes and heaving chest.

Making their way into the kitchen, her hand was dropped when the brunette made her way to the island covered in different bottles of alcohol. "Jack?" she asked, turning to look at her.

At Quinn's nod, she smirked and turned to make them drinks but not without another wink. With more room to breathe, and the music pounding dully through the floor, Quinn took the chance to stand back and watch the girl make their drinks. She was blurry around the edges and the world around her twitched, but that didn't stop Quinn's eyes raking over her body, clad in skin tight dark clothes. Her breathing picked up and she grinded her teeth, the dull throbbing making its presence more known in the more or less empty kitchen.

She bit her bottom lip and blinked. She needed that drink.

Glancing at the other inhabitants who seemed lost in the own intoxicated worlds, she stepped closer to the girl. Without hesitation, Quinn placed her hands on her hips similar to the way the brunette had to done to her earlier, and buried her nose in soft dark hair.

She felt more than heard a chuckle, "Antsy are we?" She husked.

"Hmm, you have no idea," Quinn murmured in her hair, unperturbed by the words spilling from her own mouth.

She chuckled again and turned around to face Quinn, with her trademark smirk in place and two glasses of Jack in her hands. "My lady," she said and handed Quinn her glass.

Clinking their glasses together with a small 'cheers,' Quinn drowned downed her drink in one go. It all but burned a path down Quinn's throat to the pits of her stomach, and it felt deliciously good. With her head tilted back, she relished in the burn with a moan. And there it was – heat flooded down her cheeks over her body and suddenly she was thrumming again. A shiver went down her spine, and her head spun.

Looking down, she smirked as brown eyes moved over her body. Her stomach clenched when their gazes met, and with a wink, the girl tipped her head back, drowning her drink. At the sight of a long tanned neck before her, muscles and tendons moving underneath shadows, Quinn couldn't help slowly licking her lips and made her move.

The girl gasped when Quinn's lips attached themselves to her throat. Hands instantly wrapped themselves around Quinn's waist as she blindly took the girls glass from her hand and clumsily placed it and her own on the island.

Lips wasted no time now in devouring the girl's neck, dragging them across the expanse of her skin, licking and nipping at her, tasting the saltiness of her sweat and drowning in the smell of her perfume. Suckling on a pulse point, small hands moved up to grip tightly to the back of her shirt while Quinn gripped onto the girl's slim waist. A moan met her ears and Quinn smirked, placing hot, open mouth kisses up her neck and jaw.

When hands moved further up to bury themselves into Quinn's hair, nails digging into her scalp and pulling her hair in a tight grip. A groan made its way up Quinn's throat and the dull throbbing grew to a desperate ache along with a flush of wetness pooling between her legs.

Suddenly, she found herself being back up and pinned to the counter when those lips pressed hard and insistently against hers. She moaned loudly as hips grinded into hers, pushing her hard against the counter, the edge digging into her back. They had to briefly break apart for much needed air for their burning lungs, instead she quickly delved back in for more with ruby red lips smirking against her own and kissing her deeply.

Burying her hands in dark hair, Quinn kissed back just as fervently. Lips pulled and teeth tugged at each other's lips, bruising and forceful. Her hands shifted everywhere they could reach, her movements clumsy with her first experience of a different anatomy. She couldn't find herself to care. Not when her head was spinning and enjoying the sounds the girl was making as her hands skimmed over her hips, her stomach, and her breasts before settling over her ass, squeezing and pulling the girl further into Quinn.

The brunette groaned again, and Quinn took the initiative to slowly delve her tongue between her lips. She just about exploded right there as her hips bucked involuntarily when their tongues made contact, rubbing slowly against each other. Her eyes rolled to the back of head, she gripped the girl's ass tighter, pulling her even closer, and shifted their bodies over so she was pinning the girl firmly against the counter

With a bite to her lips, a loud moan escaped out of her mouth when all of a sudden, there was a firm thigh pressing against her center. Eyes shut tight, her breath was coming out in short spurts as the coiling was building up low in her stomach.

There was a chuckle against her parted lips, "like that huh?"

Licking her lips, she rocked her hips experimentally against the jean clad thigh and the movement sent waves of pleasure shooting through her. With a grin, she nodded with her eyes still shut. "Oh yeah," she breathed out.

Hands drifted low to grasp Quinn's ass and pulled their body even closer. "Keep going," was groaned against her mouth.

With lips meeting again in sloppy distracted kisses, their hips began to move in synch. The coiling grew tighter and tighter until Quinn was on the verge of desperation, she bent slightly, and lifted a leg to wrap around her rocking hops, allowing more room for movement. Her body shook at the delicious friction that sent shivers down her spine. Hands gripped her hair tighter with breathy moans against her ear. Their movements became more frantic until finally the body underneath her stiffened, followed by a throaty groan. With a few more shifts of her hips, Quinn soon followed with her body snapping stiff. She let out a long moan swallowed by a bruised mouth that would have had her red with embarrassment if weren't for Jack and her orgasm that had her head in a tailspin.

White noise buzzing at the back of her head, and her body twitched. Breathing hard, teeth gently bit her lips and her body finally went limp in the brunette's arms. Dangling her arms over her shoulders, she buried her face in the crook of the girl's neck and gently placed a kiss there. "Oh Rach…"

Her mind was moving too fast to comprehend the words that had slipped from her mouth, the sound of her heart beating at strange beat and a delicate voice singing softly in her ears played along to strange visuals in her head.

That is until she could feel her body shake along to quiet laughter from the warm body holding up her weight, "I knew it," it said.

Quinn blinked her eyes open, her vision impaired by a mass of dark hair that looked maybe too coarse from how it felt earlier. "Knew what?" She mumbled and leaned back to face Rac-

She paused at the sight of Mack's sardonic trademark smirk. She blinked again. "Mack…"

"Yeah - Mack," she nodded, that devious glint in her eye shining brighter and brighter by the second, "Not whatever fantasies you had running through that head of yours, sorry to burst your bubble, babe. But whatever, it was win-win so I'm happy to offer my services for a little more something something if you're up for it."

Her head was spinning too fast, and her skin was still vibrating and tingling. She swallowed heavily and took a confused step back, "W-what..."

That's when Mack lost it. She doubled over laughing and stumbled around Quinn. The sound echoed in her ears, feeling a wave of nausea she glanced around the room at the intoxicated occupants who were staring at them with glassed over leers and fascination. Swallowing hard, she briefly squeezed her eyes shut, and gritted her teeth. Opening her eyes, she ran a shaky hand through her sweaty hair.

"Oh fuck me, I knew it! I knew you were a rug muncher – oh shit I knew you had it in you, Fabray," Mack managed to say through her boisterous laughter.

Breathing heavily, Quinn stared at Mack staggering to the kitchen entrance while desperately trying to connect what the hell just happened. "Hey Sheena, Ronnie, you owe my fifty fucking dollars!"

"You did it?"

"Fuck yeah, I did it! Now hand over my fucking fifty bitches, I win!"

"What?"

Mack turned to her, and almost burst out laughing again. "Sorry Fabray – it was just too easy."

Her breaths were coming out in spurts again, and suddenly it felt like the walls were closing in on her. Her head felt like it was pulsing, the corners of her vision twitching, "What's happening, Mack?" She asked, rubbing at her eyes.

She heard a snort and felt her blood suddenly boil. "What the hell is happening?" She snapped, her hands balled into fists at her sides and her eyes glaring at the darker haired girl who was trying desperately to hold in her laughter.

"We dry fucked, that's what been happening."

It all felt like too much of a dream, the spinning wasn't slowing down and neither was the sudden rage she felt. She could feel herself shaking as she watched Mack moved to the island again and poured herself another shot of Jack's. She watched the molten liquid fall into the glass in Mack's tanned hand, and felt a sudden strong urge to shove broken shards of it down Mack's throat.

"You're just so," Mack broke out into another fit of chuckles before she drowned her drink. "You're just so fucking easy to mess with."

She opened her mouth to retort when Mack turned to look at her, but the darker haired girl held up a hand. "And look, whatever the fuck happens, the offer still stands. This –" she gestured to the both of them "– can totally happen again. You're pretty rough when you get into it," she smirked. "I like my girls rough."

And just like that, the twisting in her stomach began to rise up her throat. She ran as fast as her legs could take her, pushing her way past drunks and stoners. She barely made it out the open front door and off the porch before emptying her stomach in a bush next to the building. She could hear laughter around her, Mack's echoing the loudest. It warbled its way distortedly through her ears and into her head, creating music for those dancing figures behind her eyelids.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading. Constructive criticism is welcome.**


	2. Chapter 2

**the hand that feeds**

White noise.

She heaved again, her body trembling as she fell to her knees on the grass.

"Hey girlie, you ok?" A man's voice filtered through the sound of blood rushing past ears.

"Oh she's fine don't worry. She's just sprung s'all," Mack answered for her.

She winced at the acidic taste in her mouth, and coughed. "Sprung?" she said weakly at the chorus of "ahhs" and snickers behind her back.

A hand shook her shoulder none too gently, "You ok, Fabray?"

She shrugged off Mack's hand, and fought to control her breathing. "What – is – sprung?"

"Uhm…drug newbie?" she heard another guy say, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and she froze.

"W-what…"she stuttered, and her body trembled.

"Damn, yo."

"Think she's gonna pass out?"

"Probably man, she looks one of those immortal things with the teeth – "

"Vampire?"

"Yeah, that thing."

"Pale as fuck."

"Sucks balls that a hot chick like that can't hold her shit."

"Eh, I'd still hit that."

"Shut the fuck up, all of you! Quinn?"

With a shaky exhale, she slowly moved to her feet, and the world decided to twitch and tip swaying on the spot. She blinked her blurry eyes, and looked around to see a group of people hanging outside the three story building, staring at her with mocking grins and smirks.

She looked to Ronnie and Sheena who were leaning against the front porch for reassurance, but was only met with amused grins.

"Mack, please tell me you didn't fucking drugged her," spoke a familiar feminine voice. Quinn glanced away from the girls to the frowning woman standing next to them. Quinn could feel her stomach plummet from her stomach to six feet under the ground when Sarah, an older Lima loser who had taken a liking to Quinn, looked at her with unwarranted worry.

She blinked her eyes away with her chest heaving heavily, and looked to Mack who for all the world looked like she didn't care about anything. "You – you drugged me."

It wasn't a question, it was a statement, and it was confirmed by Mack's immediate trademark smirk. "I told you – you're easy to fuck with. Surprisingly, considering you were the Head Cheerio and all that shit."

"W-when? How?"

"When we first got here annnnd…." Mack scrunched up her face as if trying to remember before shrugging. "I don't know…couple hours ago."

Quinn could feel her body shaking now. She swallowed heavily and again felt darkness closing in on her. Clenching her eyes shut, she exhaled once more. "I'm going home."

She turned on her heels and began her trek down the driveway as laughter trailed behind her. "Oh, come on Fabray. Don't be like that. Don't be a pussy! Be grateful, that was some quality shit I gave you!"

She spun on her heel, "Grateful? You drugged me, you bitch!"

That send the group into a chorus of laughter, and her panting grew faster. "Aha! That's what I'm talking about!" Mack's devious cackle the loudest of them.

Her eyes flickered to all of them, back and forth.  _Oh god, they're all laughing at me._ She blinked rapidly, and felt her heartbeat pick up at the sight of the silhouetted figures, shadowed by the porch light, blur and flicker.

"I'm going home," she repeated loudly with a quiver and staggered back slightly.

"Oh so that's it huh? I don't get a fucking thank you?"

She gritted her teeth and rubbed at her eyes viciously.

"Fabray, I'm fucking talking to you! Look, it was a bet okay? We just wanted to see if you were really hiding your flamboyantly gay badass alter-ego behind your Cheerio goodie two-shoes for fuck knows how long."

She froze at the admission and dropped her trembling hands. "W-what?"

"I just really wanted to prove that you and I aren't so different, you know? We're the same, you and me."

"I'm not you," she heard her voice say but didn't feel her mouth speak.

Mack snorted, "Oh, really? What am I then? And who's  _Rach_? Rachel Berry, isn't it? That hot chicks name you called out just seconds after  _you_ made yourself come on  _my_  leg? Isn't she not the gayest gay to ever gay on this side of Ohio? Oh no, wait. That's you."

A sudden indignation swelled within her, raising her hackles. "Don't you dare," she seethed. "Don't you  _dare_  call me that!"

Mack snorted, "Why the fuck not? You do remember what just happened right? You just came on my leg. That sounds pretty gay to me. I mean, what's so bad about it? Think Mommy Fabray'll kick you out again?"

Quinn's feet moved faster than she could stop them, and she found herself inches away from Mack's face. "Say one more word…" she snarled.

"Why? Did that hit too close to home? Have you grown that helpless? So you were homeless for a couple months for being preggers, so fucking what. As far as you're concerned Fabray, you're fated to be just a pretty faced Lima Loser, like the rest of us. Get used to it."

The words felt like a slap on the face. They did hit too close for home, far too close for Quinn's comfort, and panic had her forcing herself to take deep breaths. "What is  _wrong_  with you?" She breathed out.

Mack just laughed with a shrug. "I can ask you the same question, but then that'd be like me asking myself that question."

Her brow furrowed in confusion, and a mischievous grin formed on Mack's lips. "Dye your hair black, get a dark tan, ask yourself that question and see if you can answer it, Fabray," she said, poking Quinn in the chest.

Quinn smacked her hand away, "Don't touch me!"

"Sorry to break it to you, but you literally just fucked me against the kitchen countertop, so –"

"No, no," she shook her head, and suddenly an overwhelming rush of blood ran to her head at the words, rushing past her ears until her head felt like a pulsating bomb. "I'd  _never_  touch the likes of you.  _Who_  would even touch you? You're disgusting, and – and you're fucking crazy!"

She was panting by the time she was done, and something flickered in Mack's eyes that darkened considerably, "And you think you're any better? Look at you, with your fucking crazy eyes."

"Mack…" she could hear Sarah's voice warning from behind them, but Mack waved her away with a laugh that didn't match the anger brewing in her eyes.

"Nonono. Let's talk about this. If Young Fabray here thinks she's so sane and perfect and loved, she needs a fucking lesson from Master Yoda. You think you're friends or boyfriends give a shit about you? Please. Rumour has it you can't keep a boy toy because of your lying and cheating ass, which unsurprisingly in effect got you knocked up. Now I'm not calling you a whore or anything cause I fucking hate that word, but holy shit woman. It's no fucking wonder sometimes why everyone gave up on you."

A beast, low and deep within her chest pounded against its cages, and the pulsating grew louder and louder, with red shadows overtaking the corners of her vision.

"And what did mommy and daddy do? Oh that's, right. They kicked you out. They didn't give a shit about you, and they  _still_  don't. You said it yourself the other day at Sheena's when you were drunk off your rotting ass, daddy left you and mommy with nothing, and now dear Mommy Fabray drinks herself into a stupor every night. Like mother like daughter."

She was incapable of speaking, she couldn't. Not with the beast breaking its way through the barriers, weakened by alcohol and the mysterious drugs. She was shaking, and teary red pooled into her eyes.

"And the best part,  _the best,_  is when you come back from your precious show choir shit with your hair all cut all nice and butch. Now everyone knows of your reputation of having a stick far up your ass, but I still thought maybe you'd be an easy freebie with how depressed you looked. So I offer you one cigarette,  _one_ , and what do you do? You came running back to me the next day for more because no one else gave a shit. Now what does that say Fabray?"

She fought against the pounding in her head, barely holding herself back, digging her nails into her palms in trembling fists.

"You know, you're not special Quinn. You're nothing, just like the rest of us. So do us all a favor, grow a fucking vagina and get the fuck over it."

" _Fuck you,_ " burst through her gritted teeth.

Abruptly, Mack broke out into an incredulous grin. "That's all you got? Come on, Fabray, if you're gonna shut my ass down; I  _know_  you can do better than that."

And in a blink of an eye, her fist was throbbing and Mack's head was snapped to the side, laughing and spitting blood to the ground with the sounds of jeering and dull music blaring distortedly in the background.

"That's  _much_  better," Mack grinned at her with red teeth and her fist viciously connected to Quinn's face.

Her head snapped back, and the vicious growling erupted from the depths of her throat, exploding in red fury, and before she knew it, the world tipped on its axis when her body talked Mack in a heap to the ground.

Her head felt like she was floating, disconnected from her body as the rage took over, and the girl beneath her laughed. "That's right Fabray; I'm doing you a fucking favor. Let it all out and hit me."

Darkness overcame her, pulsing in her ears with a steady beat as her fists started to fly. Everything around began to spin like a carousal, faster and faster. The bellowing sounds of the crowd surrounding them grew dim. Her blood was boiling and rushing past her ears at an unsettling pace. It was all she could hear next to the stomach-turning noise of skin pounding skin.

She could barely feel the pain when her head was knocked to the side and air was rushing out of her lungs when a sharp pressure was pushed against it. Instead, she felt like she was on fire, her throat burned and shocks of tension ran up and down her body. She felt herself being hit without the feeling of pain.

Strong arms wrapped around her waist and she was abruptly lifted in the air. Animalistic screaming could still be heard while her arms and legs continued to flail. Before she could even realize that the sounds were coming from her, she was dropped unceremoniously to the ground when her fist connected once again to her perpetrators body. The hard impact brought her back out of the darkness with a grunt, the beast tucking itself away with an assured huff.

Face first in the grass and breathing hard, she could feel the stiffness in her body, but what sent her head spinning briefly again was that it didn't hurt. Opening her eyes, the green grass close up in her sight, it looked like they were swirling and dancing without the use of wind. Grimacing, she coughed and felt hot liquid spew from her mouth and nose. She watched as copper liquid landed on the swirling green grass, creating a swirl of colours.

She was entranced for a moment, but like a vacuum sucking on air, sound disrupted her and burst through her ears. At the sounds of drunken cheering and laughing invaded her senses, she looked around from her spot on the ground to see a bloody and bruised Mack being held up by Sheena and Ronnie, bent over laughing, "That's my fucking girl!"

She groaned when she shifted on her back, a blanket of the dark night sky looking down on her. Through her blurry vision, the stars twinkled down at her. A deprecating chuckle shook her body, the stars reminding her of just who's name she called out in the kitchen. Her chest felt tight and restricted, yet the longer she stared, the harder she laughed until it was bordering on hysterical.

Her vision of the sky was suddenly blocked by a worried Sarah, blurry around the edges. "Hey, you okay?"

Her laughter came to abrupt halt, her smile dropping from her face, and she blinked up at the older woman, Sarah only nodded at her nonverbal response and bent down to wrap her arms around her. With arms gently lifting her up to her feet, her head spun on her shoulders when she stood upright.

She exhaled slowly, only with a little difficulty. There was still no pain, just a strange stiffness.

"You okay?" She heard again in ears, and her heart jumped at the loud proximity of it.

Flinching with a sudden panic, she shrugged off the arm that was around her shoulders. "Get off me," she muttered and staggered a few feet backwards.

The laughter was becoming louder, and her breathing was once again beginning to shorten, "Fabray, you bitch! That's what I call a damn fight!"

She turned again to glance at Mack and the group of twitching shadows that loomed around her, and quickly spun around to stagger her way down the driveway. She kept forcing her legs to move down the sidewalk, even as Mack continued to call at her. With the music blasting from the house getting fainter and fainter, she couldn't find herself caring that she was miles from home and it was dead of night. She wrapped her stiff arms around herself, and quickened her pace in the direction of where she knew her home was when shadows from underneath lampposts began to loom closer to her with claws outstretched

"Leave me alone," she muttered to them, her heart racing.

"Quinn," she heard them call her name.

She just moved faster.

"Quinn," they called again unrelenting.

Frustrated tears blurred her vision, "Quinn…"

She spun on her heels. "Leave me alone!"

But she froze at the sight of Sarah pushing towards her on a skateboard, with a jacket in hand and worry on her thin, pale features. Quinn's stomach lurched again; she stumbled over to the edge of the sidewalk and heaved violently.

She could sense Sarah pausing next to her, and felt a warm hand smoothing over her back. When it felt like she didn't need to heave any more vomit and additional blood, she straightened wiping her mouth with the back of her hand only to have to wipe the excess blood she rubbed off on her clothes. Feeling considerably more sober, she refused to meet Sarah's eyes.

"You okay, kiddo?" asked Sarah, handing Quinn her jacket that been left behind at the party.

Quinn shot her a glare. "I keep telling you, stop calling me kiddo," Quinn snapped, roughly putting the jacket on and grimaced at the movement of her uncomfortable stiff limbs.

Sarah only gave her a wry, knowing smile. "I'll stop calling you kiddo when you stop acting like one."

Barely suppressing a growl, she ignored the implications in that sentence and continued to walk home.

"Hey! Come on – hey Quinn!"

She could hear Sarah catch up to her quick pace with her skateboard underneath her arm. Passing under another lamppost, the lights twitched for a split second and she almost faltered in her steps.

"Look, let me walk you home," she heard Sarah say but she was more preoccupied with her surroundings, her eyes flickering over everything rapidly.

"I don't see why you care," she muttered distantly.

"You're obviously out of your mind right now –"

"Again, I don't see why you care."

"I've been drugged before."

"Was that before or after you lost your scholarship?"

"Hey!" A hand grabbed her by the elbow, interrupting her scanning of the street and turned her around. "I know what you're going through okay, just don't make this about me."

She pulled her arm from Sarah's grip with a glare at the older woman, and continued to walk.

"And honestly right now, you're not in the best shape to be walking around here alone at night. You might not feel the pain, but have you taken a good look at yourself yet? You look like hell."

Involuntarily, Quinn glanced down at herself and her bloody clothes.

"Oh," was all she said before looking back up, continuing to scout the shadows again.

She idly wondered if maybe those shadows looming around wouldn't be able swallow her whole if she started to run.

"I seriously thought you two were going to kill each other with the way you were going at it."

Her head was in too much of a haze to care that she and Mack almost pummeled each other to death. It wasn't that bad. She rolled her shoulders, she didn't feel any pain.

Yet Sarah continued to walk with her, "You sure you're okay?"

No, the shadows were twitching ten feet to her left.

"Yes," she clenched her teeth.

"I really think you shouldn't be coming back here, Quinn."

"Why?"

"Did you not hear Mack? She's fucked up, big time."

She thought for a moment, allowing Mack taunting and provoking to run through her head, and smiled derisively. "Maybe she was doing me a favor."

"What? By antagonizing you?"

By voicing what was always running through her head.

"Okay yeah, so maybe you two might have seriously way too much in common, but you think you know her, but you don't. Once you get closer to her, she's going turn around and stab you in the back."

"Literally or figuratively?"

"I'm being serious."

"So am I."

"Jesus, how hard did she hit you in the head?"

She wasn't sure with the lack of pain she felt in the rest of her stiff body. It was strange, her skin almost felt numb to the touch when she rubbed her fingers over her palms. It sent waves of tingles up her arms that turned into tremors.

"She's going to drag you down."

"I thought I was already on my way down."

"God damn it, Quinn. Look, I admit I only know half the shit of what you are going through, probably even less still. But that doesn't mean this place is the best for you to hang around, or what Mack said was true. She might talk all high and mighty about this place and that you two are one of the same or whatever, but you don't know Mack like I do."

Her eyes narrowed. "Right, you would know because you're the one who's spent last ten years living vicariously through teenaged stoners."

She was shaking again, the blurriness around the corners of her vision was beginning to grow and fester.

"Okay, you know what? Fine, fuck you. If coming back to this shit hole is what you keep on planning to do, whatever, but don't think for a second that I'm going be watching your back next time around."

"I didn't need anyone watching my back in the first place."

Quinn didn't slow her pace at the sound of a frustrated exhale, nor did she turn to glance at Sarah who spun around and skated back to the house. She wrapped her stiff arms tighter around herself with her eyes darting everywhere and just walked faster.


	3. Chapter 3

**I am Jack's smirking revenge**

No matter how hard she rubbed at her eyes or scratched at her skin, the twitching shadows continued to follow her and her skin crawled. Even when the sky finally turned from dark to dusky blue with the sun on the horizon, she couldn't escape it.

Quinn had no idea how long she had been walking for, she had to stop and rest every once in a while on the curb when the reeling in her stomach became too much and random bursts of pain shot through her. Once or twice she stopped at a bus stop, contemplating taking one home, but she quickly vetoed that when she had seen one coming down the street and claustrophobia ran down her spine.

So she just kept moving her feet, one after the other, feeling it becoming more difficult when her two pathetic limbs called legs began to feel like deadweight and having to continuously spit blood out of her mouth, the strong taste and smell of blood making her dizzy. She felt absolutely destroyed. Her mouth and throat felt dry as sandpaper and her head still pounded along with the loud music that echoed in her ears. She grinded her teeth and pushed on, and on and on…

Stumbling for a moment with her heavy feet, it broke her out of her haze. She glanced around to find herself in her neighborhood, and stopped at the sight of her not-so-new house. For a moment, she had the urge to turn back around from where she came; for all its apparent new worth, the new house didn't exactly feel like home. It looked old and desolate on that small patch of green lawn and empty driveway.

Idly scratching her forearm, she contemplated the possibility of crashing at Sarah's place, but then she remembered their recent altercation and just the  _idea_  of burrowing under the covers of her bed -

She jumped at a sudden rumble of a lawnmower. Turning her gaze to a few houses down to the source of the sound, she met the eyes of some middle-aged man give her a blank passing glance over her state and turned back to his lawn before she could glare at him.

Well – she may never get that feeling of having a home to go to anymore, but at least this area didn't have any prying or judgmental neighbors like the last.

With a sigh, she continued her path to the quaint house and walked up the front porch whilst digging in her jean pocket for her keys. With her hands still twitching and shaking, she swung open the screen door and fiddled with the lock for a couple moments when it was giving her difficulty. Leaning a shoulder against the wood, she managed to open the door with a shove and fumbled inside. Quickly shutting the door, she leaned heavily against it with a slow exhale. Her eyes shut with a small frown she rested there for a few moments, gathering her bearings.

Her breathing faintly heavy, her body was aching to the bones, and she could feel the left side of face swelling. All she desperately wanted right now was a gallon of water to drink and to be buried in her bed and to never be bothered forever.

The first two sounded like a possibility, but the last -

_Hey God, if you're listening…_

With a low groan, she pushed off the door, pulled her jacket off, hanging it on the coat rack and used her feet to push her Chucks off, only to almost lose her balance and bump into the key table next to the door with a thud.

The loose floorboards on the second floor creaked in response, and Quinn silently cursed herself under her breath.

"Quinn?" She heard her mother call out, and made a beeline for the kitchen. "Quinn, is that you?"

Hearing her mother's footsteps as she thundered down the stairs, she could feel herself begin to cold sweat and her skin crawl in a panic, dreading her mother to see her condition. "Kitchen," she called out with a tremor and moved to stand in front of the sink with her back to the entrance, scratching at her welting forearm.

"Oh – there you are." She grinded her teeth and gripped the edge of the counter with white knuckled fists that were beginning to swell and colour. "I was wondering where you were."

"I told you, I went out with a couple of friends," she bit out, attempting to control the shakiness of her voice. Her nerves were still shot.

"Quinn, it's 8:23am – it's Sunday morning. You've been gone for nearly two days."

That was the time? That how long it's been? She swallowed with difficulty, her mouth was still dry. Grabbing a glass from the dishes rack, she opened the pipe and began to fill it with water.

"It's Sunday…"

"Yes."

"Where's the car?"

"I'm sorry?"

"The car, it isn't outside, I thought you'd be at church."

"I took it to the mechanic; it was making some strange sounds," her mother's wary voice said.

She frowned and focused her glare out the window above the sink, "You're wasting money on the car because it's making strange sounds?"

"Well, I don't want it to break down while I'm on the road."

"If you're so worried about the car, there's this thing called public transportation, you should try it mother." She brought the trembling glass to her lips and quickly gulped it down, it still wasn't enough. She began to refill it.

"Oh forget the car, Quinn. You had me worried, I was just about to call the police –"

Closing the pipe, she dropped the glass with a loud clang in the sink and gripped the counter once again to steady herself, she was shaking again.

"Quinn, are you okay?"

No, her deflection failed and the walls were closing in around her. She quickly diverted her gaze from the window, her breathing picking up and dropped her chin to her chest.

"Quinnie..."

"Stop."

"Pardon?"

"Stop – just stop," she said through gritted teeth.

"But Quinnie…please talk to me."

The confusion was evident in her mother's voice, but she didn't care. She didn't need this, this…placating. Not now.

She could feel her mother staring at her back, unmoving and felt a rush of anger. "Do you not realize we need that money? You're off gallivanting around town, spending the little money we have on your stupid County Club and on sounds a car naturally makes."

"Don't make assumptions, Quinn. It's unbecoming of you. The money I earn, I save it for you – "

"Don't pretend that you care," she said before she could stop herself.

"Quinnie…"

"No, don't you dare pretend that you all of a sudden care, because it's bullshit."

"Don't you dare speak to me like that, young lady. Why do you think you're still here? If it weren't for me, your father would have had full custody of you from the divorce proceedings."

She spun around on her heels, "And look how that turned out for you!"

Her mother gasped with her eyes wide, and she instantly swayed on the spot, dizzy with spots were once again in her eyes at her fast movements. She had to blink rapidly to rid them away only to see her mother rushing towards her.

"Don't touch me!" She snapped and her mother stopped just a few feet before her, hands outstretched as if to touch her.

She felt nauseas.

Her mother's arm went limp to her side and her eyes darted over Quinn, taking in her bruised and bloody form before meeting Quinn's angry gaze. "A-Are you ok?"

"I wouldn't be standing if I weren't." She was more or less fighting to stay on her feet.

Still, her mother's faint sniffing wasn't lost on her. "Have you been drinking?" She asked warily.

Quinn couldn't help the disdainful curve of her lips.

"Quinn –"

"Don't, I don't need to hear a lecture, especially coming from you."

"It's highly un-ladylike."

"That's a fair share of the pot calling the kettle black now, isn't it?"

Her eyes narrowed, "I have my reasons Quinn. You shouldn't. You're seventeen – you are not allowed to be drinking."

The words collided into her like a freight train, making her physically rear back when something heavy pressed into her chest until she could barely breathe. "Seventeen…" she breathed, staring at her mother with a frozen tortured gaze.

It took Judy a few moments, but soon her eyes widened in realization. "Oh…honey," she breathed and reached out for her again.

"No," she stepped back from her mother's grasp shaking her head and turned to face the counter again. "Just - no."

She licked her dry lips and her hands shook to scratch her crawling skin. To busy her trembling hands, she took the glass from the sink and drank the rest of the few sips of water left.

"I'm so sorry, Quinnie –"

"No!" The glass shattered on the kitchen floor, "Don't you dare! Don't you dare try redeem yourself!"

Unshed tears built up in her eyes, she held her breath and blinked them away. "Why am I even be surprised? I don't - you care more about the car than me."

She choked out a deprecating chuckle, and dug the heel of her palms into her eyes. She couldn't stop shaking, and she was beginning to wonder why her mother fought to keep her if she was such a burden to remember.

Feeling her chest clench at the thought, she dropped her hands to stare unblinkingly at the horribly decorated wallpaper, clenching her hands into fists and grinding her teeth.

"Quinnie, let me explain – "

"No, there's nothing to explain," she said in a clear flat voice. "I don't want to hear your excuses; I don't want to hear a thing. Do you understand?"

"Quinn – "

" _Do you understand?"_

She took her mother's silence as an answer and sighed.

"Right – we're done now," she cursed the quiver in her voice. "Leave me alone."

"Quinn –"

She turned her glare to her mother, and snapped. "This conversation is  _over_."

Her mother turned silent, and for a brief moment, her mother looked wounded with shining eyes. With an unrelenting hard glare, she turned back to the sink and slowly expelled the air she held in her lungs.

"I'll be going out later; I won't have time to make any dinner, so I'll leave some money for you on the counter for you to order some food," her mother attempted with a small voice.

She held her breath, and didn't respond. The way her mother just finally  _stopped_  – it almost felt back to basics with the stilted conversations they had filled with uncomfortable silences – it was like being back to normal, if normal even existed between them.

"There is also a bag on the kitchen table for you," she continued. "That sweet boy Sam brought it over when you weren't home."

There was another short minute of uncomfortable silence when she didn't answer. She was waiting for her mother to suggest that she and Sam should start dating again, that his sweet Catholic charms and influence would help redeem her from her angry, Sinful ways.

Instead, what she got was–

"You're just like him, you know."

The tears were unexpected and automatic.

She brought hand to her mouth and her face crumbled when she heard footsteps leave the kitchen to head back upstairs. Cold and full of hurt they were spoken, yet they cut through her deep and spilled her guts to the floor.

She bit hard on her tongue until she could faintly taste more blood in her mouth and choked back a sob that threatened its way up her throat. Dropping her hand, she slowly breathed out once…twice…moved away from the counter and carefully stepped around broken shards of glass to the small table that sat against the wall in the small kitchen, grabbed the bag and made her way upstairs.

Walking past her mother's closed door, her heart picked up and she walked faster without a second glance, stumbled into her room at the end of the hall, shut her door and locked it with trembling fingers. For what seemed liked the thousandth time, she let out a sigh, this time with relief.

Sniffing, Quinn dropped the bag in her hands on her vanity dresser, and sat down heavily, slumping down in her seat, slipping her eyes shut. She sat there for a few moments in silence, forcing her heavy panting into controlled breaths.

Her body sagging heavily, she sat there for a bit longer until temptation grew and she eyed the bag on her dresser through hooded eyelids. She hadn't noticed it earlier in the kitchen, in the midst of her panic. It was curious, even at the considerate thought of Sam dropping something off for her, she couldn't get rid of the heaviness that settled in her chest. Sam couldn't have waited until the next time they saw each other to give it to her?

With her eyes feeling swollen, she sat up and gently removed her contacts, putting them away in a plastic container and wiped at her tender eyes before moving her attention to the small plastic bag. Opening it, she glanced inside, and paused. A small frown creased her forehead at the pink and black box of hair dye she pulled out; she held it up and stared at it, the pink design against the black background popping out at her. Was this a joke? Sam knew she quietly objected to anything to do with the colour. Grinding her teeth, she placed the box on her dresser and pulled out a slightly thick envelope that had pencil crayon decorations bordering around it.

The heaviness was expanding in her chest as she eyed the colourful decorations and her name spelt out in different colours. When they began to twitch and twirl, she ripped the envelope open and pulled out two different sets of letters, and her eyes rapidly moved over them. She read and she read, her throat constricting and her chest heaving. The tears that she had been fighting to keep back filled her eyes once again, and spilled down her cheeks.

She read those letters over and over and over again. Why did this always happen? Why did have to happen to her? Was it karma getting back at her? She thought she already had enough of that with Junior Year and her failed attempt at getting everything back to the way it was.

When she couldn't look at them anymore, she had to put them down, and press a hand to her eyes, she couldn't deal with this. Everything was beginning to pain. Her entire head was throbbing, her lungs and throat burned.

White noise _–_

_No._

Dragging her hand down her face to clamp over her mouth, her gaze landed on her mirror and finally took notice of her reflection. Tears glistening in wide blood shot eyes that were blown out stared back at her, and she dropped her hand, taking in her hell of appearance. Red blood that had dried to brown was all around her mouth and nose, and had dripped down her throat and splattered all over her white t-shirt. A dark bruise had formed and swelled over her left cheek, and her lip was cut.

She looked down at her shaking hands, holding the crimpling cards in a tight grip to see just how swollen and dark they had gotten. She dropped them in her lap in fear of wrinkling them, and brought her hands closer to her face. She flexed and pulled her fingers, her knuckles throbbing. She turned her palms over and they caught her tears that refused to stop. She glared at them, cursed them as they twitched and shadows crept towards them.

Why did she destroy everything she touched?

Her face crumbled and she lost it. Sobs that had been pushed down suddenly bubbled up again and she didn't fight it in the solitary of her room. They echoed aloud, reverberated around her room and through her body, shaking her violently. With the walls closing in on her, and the shadows that always seemed to be there, lurking and creeping over her vision, her hand flew out and swept everything off her dresser.

She became manic, jumping up from her chair causing it and the letters to fall to the ground, and tore around her room. Her hands blindly grabbed for whatever was in reach and flung it across the room, tears streaming down her cheeks and inhumane sounds erupting from her throat.

She had no idea how long she went on for, but she finally stopped when she became dizzy and stood in the middle of her room with her eyes shut, ignoring the mess she had created. Breathing hard, she opened her eyes and her gaze landed on her cell phone that she had left home, lying on her bed. She instantly lunged for it and began to dial the number that had been lodged in the back of her head.

Putting it to her ear, she paced around the pile of mess, her fingers tapping against her thigh, and listened to the phone ring. Her anger and pain was feeding her adrenaline, her body felt exhausted but her mind felt restless. She grinded her teeth harder together until –

"Hello?" Her breath hitched at the sound of his voice, she stopped her pacing, and held her breath listening to him breathe on the other line.

"Hello?" He asked again, his voice wary.

Tears blurred her vision, she opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out.

"…Quinn?"

She clamped her mouth shut, and gripped the cell tighter. " _Fuck you_ ," she hissed and hung up.

Quinn tossed the phone on her dresser, forcing that ever present lump down her throat with a swallow, and buried her face in her hands, rubbing it fiercely until she hissed in pain. God was she thirsty, her mouth felt like sandpaper and her throat was raw. She needed more water.

Rushing to the door, she unlocked and swung it open. Marching with intent down the hallway, her feet froze in front of her mother's door. She stared at the white wood, the sounds of muffled crying coming from behind the door. She felt her chest clench, but she pushed on and ran down the stairs to the kitchen. Ignoring the shards of glass, she got a new one and filled it with water. Gulping it down, she filled it again, and marched back up stairs, disregarding her mother's door and entered her own, locking it.

She gulped from the glass, and glanced around the room until her gaze found the pink and black box, and letters. Setting the glass on the dresser, she picked up the fallen items, and carefully placed the letters down, flattening them down neat before looking to the box with a quirked eyebrow.

Her decision was instantaneous. With the box in hand, she walked to the bathroom and began opening it with a trembling hand.

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**A/N: Reviews and constructive criticism are welcome.**


	4. Chapter 4

**the day the world went away**

It was decidedly getting easier to breathe when the aspirin finally started to kick in, and her bruised ribs and tense shoulder didn't send a spasm of pain through her every time she took a breath. The pads of her fingers lightly traced over her ribs, her skin warm to the touch, and she could feel how swollen the left side of her ribs were in comparison to her right. Her grazing fingers sent tingles down her spine, and with a hazy curious whim she paused over a spot that seemed most tender and pressed down gently, her toes curling at the slight pain that ran through her. Almost discontent with just that, she grasped her ribs and pressed down hard. Hissing through gritted teeth, her toes curled in further until she finally released her ribs with a slow exhale and let her hand continue to trail her naked stomach.

Right – so she wasn't dreaming. She was definitely naked underneath the covers of her bed, parts of her body certainly felt swollen, and yes, her room positively looked like a typhoon ran through it.

She wasn't quite certain as to why she was naked and why her body felt like it had been run over multiple times. She had been in and out of sleep for who knows how long, the last time she was awake it had been bright outside, but now –

She had woken up almost a half hour ago to find her room a mess, and two pills of pain killers and a glass of water on her nightstand. With a long confused glance around the clothes, books and other belongings strewn around the floor, she had reached over with a painful grimace to gulp it down and collapse on her back once more.

She was pretty certain she was nursing the mother of all hangovers, she was also certain that hangover's weren't supposed to last this long. It was difficult to remember much of anything in the past hours, just the hours that felt like minutes of just watching daylight turn to darkness turn to daylight with just her eyes peaking over her covers to stare up above her head through the window. Or to stumble through the colossal mess on her bedroom floor to wander around the house restlessly like a ghost in search of something to fill her stomach only to share with the toilet moments later, cursing whatever sympathetic being who left soup on the stove, yet couldn't remember to leave the blinds and curtains closed for her sensitive eyes.

Really – her body felt weighted down into the mattress, her skull felt expanded twice its size, her throat was raw, and it hurt to move her fingers, left shoulder and her ribs – what the fuck happened? A couple drinks of water, a couple aspirin, repeat – that was the regular drill, but not today apparently. She was pretty sure she had her parents beat in hangovers.

She was seriously going to kill Mack.

It was right then, in the midst of a silent prayer to end her suffering, her cell phone decided to beep unceremoniously somewhere in her room. She winced, squeezing her eyes shut as the sound sent a sharp throb shooting through her head. When it beeped again, her face slowly darkened into a scowl and cursed the inanimate object for not being on silent and hidden somewhere in her room. Bringing her hands up to her face to rub the lethargy away, she exhaled and ever so slowly, removed the covers from her body and sat up, minding the pain in her ribs and shoulder.

She gritted her teeth when sharp pain coursed through her body at the movement, her arms shaking at the exertion of raising her body, and sighed when she allowed her body to collapse again the wall. Giving her body a moment to ease of pain, Quinn opened her eyes to scan her room blanketed in dull light with a furrowed brow. Her sight was blurry from her hazy eyes and her lack of contacts but she was still able to assess the damage of her room.

Just like the last time she took a glance around her room, while it was usually mundane, orderly and bare, it was in a state of disarray. Her clothes was scattered out all along the floor from her open closet, the small pile of books that had been stacked on her nightstand had been tossed on the floor, her lamp had been knocked over, and her piles makeup and other random stuff on her dresser was scattered everywhere.

That's when she saw it – a small stack of papers and a colorful box that sat innocently open sideways. A heavy foreboding feeling settled in her chest, and at the sound of another beep, she jumped slightly, her eyes automatically drawn to her cell which lay among the mess on her vanity dresser.

Swallowing heavily with apprehension, Quinn took a deep breath and gradually dragged her body off her bed with a wince and stumbled her way over her clothes, her eyes unmoving from the blurry objects. Yet, something caught her eye once she was standing over her dresser. Raising her eyes to the mirror, she felt her body go still and her breath catch in her throat with a small gasp. She found herself staring into the reflection of stranger, one with dark bruises littering their body and face, a cut on their lip, dark circles under their eyes that decided to fill with unshed tears, and unruly pink hair.

Barely breathing, Quinn's knees decided to give out and she stumbled heavily into her chair. The stranger followed her movements, its dreary hazel eyes wide with shock. The longer she stared, the more blurry her vision became and the louder the pounding in her head became. She had to look away, but looking away led to looking down at the sheets of paper on her dresser.

One caught her eyes, with trembling hands she picked it up and slowly opened it to see a colorful drawing of four blonde haired figures – two short and two tall, with one that had mysterious pink highlights – holding hands. The words ' _To Quinn, We'll miss you!'_  were scribbled in neat block lettering in pencil crayons above the drawing, and underneath  _'From Stevie, Stacy and Sam.'_

Something coiled within her chest, snapping tight, and gripping her lungs and heart.

Another piece of paper folded under the drawing was a letter written in a familiar messy handwriting. She grinded her teeth, and pulled the letter from underneath with trembling hands, and already she's cursing the boy in her head, words that she would have never dreamed of thinking weeks prior.

_Quinn,_

_Hi. I really don't know how to start this, there doesn't seem to be an easy way to say it and I don't have much time to write it. I would have told you in person but…I guess it's best if I just write it already. Dad got his job back, which means by the time you get this I'll probably be in Kentucky._

_You can imagine how happy my parents are, dad starts works in just a couple days so we had to rush and pack everything to drive there._

_I bet you're angry. I know you're angry. In a way I'm angry too, angry at a lot of things. I didn't get to say bye to you, or to Kurt, or to anyone else. I'm angry that my dad lost his job, that we lived in a motel for months, that I have to move to Kentucky. I'm gonna miss everyone. I'm gonna miss you. I'm glad that even after everything that happened between us, we still remained friends. Best friends even. I don't regret those days I slowly got to know the real you when you helped babysit. And I know you feel the same, don't think that I don't, I'm not that stupid. I mean like…you're like the Iron Woman to my Captain America when Tony Stark from Prime Earth was sort of reborn as Natasha Stark on regular Earth. Just without the romance and everything..._

_So please please please don't be angry. I didn't mean to not say goodbye properly, I tried calling and coming over but you were never home and never answered my texts or anything. But in all honestly Q? I'm glad. I couldn't bear to actually see you. It would hurt too much for the both of us, and I don't think you'd want your last memory of me is to be of me crying. I think I've already made a lasting impression on you with my lemon dyed blond hair, studly body, and geekiness/nerdiness/dorkiness (I didn't know which one to use) and I want to keep it that way because I think you deserve some happiness in your life after everything you've been through._

_I hope that you do get happy. You get happy and you leave Lima, go to college and just be happy. Because I know you're not. Not after these past two years with Finn, your baby (sorry I know you don't like me mentioning it), me, you're parent's divorce (sorry again), everything. I just want you to be happy. But I know you're still pissed, hopefully not too much to cut me off once you read this cause I'd still wanna keep in touch with you. I'm gonna see if I can come visit sometimes, or maybe you can come visit us (once we find a stable home, we're staying with relatives until we find one). It doesn't matter. Facebook friends forever, right? At least until college…we can totally figure something out with that. Uhm…unless you don't want to…that's ok…yeah…._

_I'm rambling. I'm sorry. I wish I didn't have to go. I wish I could have stayed and see us finally kick ass at Nationals this year and to graduate together. I'm gonna miss you guys so much. Stacy and Stevie are gonna miss you too. They made you a drawing and made me get you a box of pink hair dye cause Final Fantasy, you know? They still think it would be awesome if you dressed up as Lightning for Halloween and sent them pictures. I told them you'd never do it but they wouldn't shut up about it._

_I don't know what to write anymore Q. I guess I'll be seeing you._

_Oel ngati kameie_.

_~~Love~~ From, Sam_

She read it again, and again, and again, feeling some sense of déjà vu. With a blurry memory running through her head, she could vaguely remembering reading these hours ago. She quickly glanced around the mess of her room and looked down at the letters with a lump in her throat. The pain in her body couldn't compare anymore, she instead could feel it going numb, and limp with heaviness while her heart got steadily heavier and heavier. The threat of tears was building, yet she couldn't find the energy to breakdown, it felt like she had been crying for days already with the way she felt and the flashes of memory that ran through her mind. Her head hung, and she slowly placed the letters next to the box.

She eyed it through her eyelashes, the open box of hair dye laying empty, mocking her with its bright pink label. She looked away and reminded herself to breathe.

Breathe, just breathe.

Her cell beeped, jarring and echoing in her too quiet room.

Without even glancing at it, her hand snatched out and grabbed it to read her unread text messages. She barely registered the amount of missed calls she had from her mother, Sam, Santana, and Brittany, or that the last time she was home it was Friday morning and it was now evening on Monday. Instead, her eyes zeroed on the unread message sent from Mack.

**hey fabray, bring some jack to mine's next sat and i'll share some smokes. your bday bash ain't over yet, offer still stands ;)**

Quinn reread the text three times and swallowed heavily before typing out her reply and hit send before she could rationalize what she had just done. She unceremoniously dropped her phone on her dresser, pulled her knees up to her chest and curled up into herself, letting out shaky exhale.

**See you then**

* * *

**A/N: And that concludes the prequel. Hope you enjoyed the downward spiral :D Comments and constructive criticism are welcome.**

**If you want to see some periodic ranting about these stories, or some extras (important music, relevant pictures, posts) that has to do with the stories, you can go to my profile for the links.**


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